New Memories
by Broken-Latin
Summary: Russia gets into a car crash and loses his memory. Worst of all, he forgets Canada. RusCan.
1. Lost Memories

New Memories

Russia drove as fast had he could without slipping on the ice coated roads. Snow flew down around him. He was happy to be out of that madhouse. Belarus had arrived unannounced, and found it fit to chase Canada around the house with a knife because she caught him cuddling with her brother. Russia had stormed out of the house, sick of the psychopath that was his sister. He felt bad for leaving Canada and for acting so childish. Russia tried his best to behave well for the Canadian. He loved him a lot and didn't want to lose him over something as stupid as this. He should call. . .

But it wasn't like Ivan could get signal here. He had made his way to the middle of nowhere. He'd figure out a way to make up for this later, when he got home. For now, he just wanted to drive and try to think clearly. He did regret leaving poor Matthew alone with Belarus. If he had not been thinking of it as a fight or flight situation, Russia would have taken Canada with him. But, again, it was too late for that.

Ivan took a few breaths. It was all over now. His sister hadn't stalked him down the road, and he only saw one oncoming car. He relaxed a little. He'd stay the night at a little in that was a mile or two down the road, and then he would go home in the morning, back to Canada. Back to the loving arms of the boy who smelled like maple. Yes, that's what would happen. . .

Russia was spacing out. He didn't see the lights coming his way. When he did, it was too late to swerve. Ivan had drifted onto the other side of the road, and now the huge truck was heading toward him at high speeds. He slammed on the brake, trying to save himself somehow. All it did was worsen things. The car skidded and spun in circles. He was in total loss of control.

A silent prayer went through his mind. _Please let me live to see Matvey_, he begged some unknown force. That was Russia's final thought before the truck rammed into his car head on.

A steady beeping sound. Blurry lights. A too-clean scent. Russia knew what this was. A hospital. But what was he doing at a hospital? Surely that was silly. He couldn't be there.

But he was. When he opened his eyes, he was lying on a bed with rails, and a monitor kept track of his heart. Tubes fed into his wrist. He looked to the right, where a small group of chairs sat. People were in those chairs. Who were they? A blonde boy with a loose curl of hair and a white bear. . . Were bears allowed in hospitals? And who was that sleeping girl in the blue dress and bow? He didn't recognize them at all.

The boy smiled as he saw Russia had opened his eyes. "_Mon Russie__!" _he cried, moving the bear away and running to the man in the bed. What language was he speaking? Was it French? What did it mean?

"Who are you?" asked Russia bluntly.

The boy gave a look of confusion and hurt. "What do you mean? I—I'm Matthew. Canada. You're boyfriend." The blonde blushed at the word. Russia frowned.

"You're Canada?" Russia knew that he was Russia. He knew he represented the nation, but he didn't remember any Canada. Then he thought a moment at the last part. "I'm not gay." The boy gave him a grimace.

"I—Ivan. What's going on? I love you." He looked confused and upset.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know you, and I certainly do not love you. Now, would you tell me why I'm in a hospital?" Russia was going to be blunt. He wouldn't let the boy think that he loved him and fake it. That would be stupid. He didn't even know him.

"Y—you got hit by a truck after you left last night." Ivan frowned. Was he the kind of person who left in the middle of the night often?

"Why would I do that?" he wondered aloud.

"Y—your sister, she's insane." The boy kept his voice down. "She was chasing me with a knife and you were upset because she was stalking you. So you left."

"Huh. Who is my sister?" Canada frowned. Russia didn't really care. He felt a little sorry for the kid, but he wouldn't give him false hope.

"Belarus." Ivan nodded. Yes, that would be okay, he guessed. But god, it sounded like he had one fucked up family.

"Can I leave?" This would be Ivan's last question.

"_Non_. I need to get a doctor. He'll have to see you. Um, w—wait here, alright, _Mon chéri_." The boy paused before leaving. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that." He hurried away. Russia didn't know what he'd said, but he assumed it was some sort of pet name.

Ivan looked at the sleeping girl in the chair. Was that his sister? Or was it a friend? A secret lover perhaps? That would be nice—that girl was very pretty.

Russia tried to think for a moment. Why was it he couldn't remember anything? Had he drank it away? He felt a strong craving for vodka now, so he might have been a drinking man. Hopefully he wasn't too horrible a person. Then again, the Canada kid seemed to like him, and he seemed sweet, so he couldn't have been too bad. But why couldn't he recall anything about these people? But Canada had said he was hit by a truck, so drinking might not have been to blame.

A doctor entered with Canada. "Hello, Ivan," said the man in the white coat.

"Skip formalities. What's wrong with me?"

"Oh, nothing is wrong with you, Mr. Braginski." The doctor was trying to sugarcoat things.

"Just tell me."

The man sighed. Then he looked to Canada, as if asking for permission. Canada nodded. "Mr. Braginski, you have a concussion, and you seem to have lost your memory. You should try to remember things by just letting them come. They should all make their way to you eventually. For now, go about things as normal as possible."

"Okay. Just let me go now."

"Of course. A nurse will be with you shortly." The doctor left and the girl in the chair stood. She must have woken from the noise the doctor made. She ran to him.

"Ivan! You didn't lose everything, did you? You remember me, right, big brother?" Her voice was a pleading tone. So that was Belarus. . . So much for that lover idea. And the fact that Canada called her a stalker didn't help his mood much.

"I'm sorry. No. Why don't you go home or something? I'll be fine on my own."

"But Ivan, I need to take care of you," insisted Belarus.

"Don't worry, Natalia," said Canada. "I'll make sure Ivan gets better." She frowned, but nodded.

"You'd better." She stormed out of the room.

"I'm sorry about that. She doesn't really like me."

"I'd assume, if she is the stalker you say she is and if you are so close to me, she's bound to be jealous." Canada smiled weakly.

"Yeah. I'll take you home and stay with you for a while, eh? I—If it's okay with you, that is."

"It's fine." Ivan didn't want to fight the boy on it, though he wasn't overly fond of the idea of being taken care of by some gay kid with a crush. Still, it might be a bad idea to go home alone. Or worse still, to have his stalker sister care for him.

Canada watched the man with a certain curiosity and sadness. Russia frowned at him. He didn't want the kid to be sad, but he just didn't know what to do to make him happy besides remembering. And memories weren't coming yet. When a tear came to the blonde's eye, Russia spoke up.

"I'm sorry, comrade. I'll try my best to get my memory back for you."

Canada let the tear fall and sat in the chair beside Russia. "D—don't apologize, Ivan. It isn't your fault. And don't worry about me. Just try to get better. I'm just glad that you were this lucky."

"What do you mean? I wasn't lucky. I've lost everything. I don't even know who my boss is."

"Vladimir Putin."

"Who the hell is that? See, not lucky."

"Ivan, if we weren't, you could be dead or dying. At least the doctor says your memory should come back." Russia smiled at the boy. It seemed that he really cared about him. Even if he was a creepy gay kid.

The nurse came in and gave Ivan a change of clothes that Canada had apparently brought with them. He changed and Matthew led him out of the hospital, into the snowing parking lot. Canada took him to a red pickup truck and they got in.

"How long was I out?" wondered Ivan aloud.

"Two days," answered the Canadian. "W—we were worried that you'd died. I'm glad you woke up." They were driving.

"I wouldn't die. Even if I did, it would be very temporary. We live as long as our nations, da?"

"How did you know that?" asked Canada.

"I just did. I guess I didn't lose quite everything."

"That's good." They pulled off of the main road onto a dirt lane that seemed to go on forever. Snow was all over the place. It was a pretty scene. It made him happy to know that the world could be beautiful like this.

"Hey, Ivan?" Russia looked to Matthew.

"What?"

"Do you think I should invite Lithuania or Latvia over? They used to live with you, back when the Soviet Union was around.

Soviet Union . . . Yes, that was something he knew about. He recalled a few other nations, without faces to match the names, who lived with him. A face came up, blurry at first, then clearer. Brown, wavy hair . . . pretty blue eyes. . .

"Who is the brunette?" he muttered to Canada, trying not to lose the image.

"Lithuania is a brunette. But so are Spain, Romano, and Italy. And a lot of others. Describe what you see."

"Wavy brown hair, blue eyes, green uniform, shaky, afraid . . . afraid of . . . of something."

"That's Lithuania, alright."

"Why is he so afraid? What's wrong with him?"

"H—He worked for you when the Soviet Union was around."

"Was he afraid of me?" Russia was worried about the answer Canada would give. He didn't want to feel like some monster.

"Y—Yes." That made Russia's heart sink a little. That boy in his memory seemed sweet, but he was so terrified. It saddened him to think the kid's fear was caused by him.

"Why?"

"I—I'm not sure that the rumors are true, but it's been said that you b—beat him."

It flowed to Russia like a dream:

"_Lithuania, you are such an idiot, da? You messed up. It's time for a punishment." The boy before him shook violently._

_ "P—Please no. I didn't mean to. I—I'm so sorry!" cried Lithuania, who was on the floor. It seemed that Russia had pushed him._

_ "You didn't mean to run away? Oh, Toris, I hate it when you lie to me. You only make it worse on yourself by doing so."_

_ "I—I'm sorry. I—it will never happen again, I s—swear." Tears were beginning to fall from the trembling man. _The real Russia thought angrily that he should stop. He couldn't hurt that poor boy, could he?

_"Nope! I need to make sure that you mean it! What should we play with first, Toris?" A smile danced on the Russian's lips. "I know! How about you tell me what to do. That way it will not be as bad, da?"_

What the hell! Was that man insane? Russia didn't like what he was seeing. He didn't want to know that that monster of a man was him.

_"What do you want to do first?"_

_ "I—I don't know sir."_

_ "Bad answer." Russia's hand smacked the brunette with enough force to send him to the ground. "I guess I will just have to find something by myself." The blonde thought a moment. "Ah, that should work. You tried to run, da? So it would make sense to make it visible to the world that you are mine, so that you will be returned to me should you leave again." Russia found a poker with his eyes and then glanced back to the Lithuanian. "Take off your shirt." The boy obeyed silently, with trembling fingers unbuttoning his shirt._

_ "Wait there," said Russia, heading to the fire. The poker had a hammer and sickle on the end, like a brander used on cattle. That was the point. Russia picked it up and placed it in the fire. He let it heat up, until it glowed._

_ Ivan returned to the boy, and looked him over. Where should he place the marking? Tears streamed down Lithuania's face. He couldn't place it somewhere to obvious, but it had to be visible to some, and to Lithuania. Grinning like a maniac, Russia chose a spot._

What the fuck am I doing to that kid? What is wrong with me?

_Russia grabbed the hem of Lithuania's pants and pulled it down a little bit. His hip would be perfect. The metal met Lithuania's flesh, and the boy screamed. Good. He'd learn his lesson._

Russia snapped out of it and started to shake like Lithuania had. Dear god, that was horrible! He almost wanted to cry. He would have to apologize to that kid. Poor boy. How had Russia done that? What kind of person was he?

"What did you see, Russia?" asked Canada.

"God, I'm a monster," muttered Russia. "Lithuania . . . How could I be so evil? Dammit! I didn't want to be a monster!"

"What are you talking about? Ivan, you're a wonderful person."

"Not to Lithuania. I . . . I did something to him . . . I . . ."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Russia was thankful that Canada said that. He didn't want to ruin that kid's mind with thoughts of Soviet markings and torture. "Do you still want to get Lithuania and have him stay?"

Russia had to think about it. He wanted to apologize to that boy. He didn't know if he wanted to do it now, though. He decided he didn't. "Nyet."

"Okay." They made it to an old manor. It must have been Ivan's house. They hurried inside. Ivan wanted to remember something when he entered. He didn't, and was gravely disappointed. They walked around the building, which was cold and looked lonely, until they found Ivan's bedroom. It was a pretty room that didn't fit the rest of the stone mansion. The bed was a big four poster and had a green comforter. The curtains on it were gold. The whole room was green, gold, and dark brown. Russia smiled. It reminded him of sunflowers. He liked sunflowers.

Canada's arm brushed up against Russia and he almost tried to hold his hand. Then he backed away, blushing. "I—I'm sorry, Russia. I just keep trying to . . . you know . . ." He sighed and gave up trying to explain. "Sorry." Russia looked at him. That boy was so sweet and kind, the exact opposite of the old Ivan. God, the old Ivan was one lucky bastard—that kid had stayed with him, even when he left him with his psycho sister and ran off.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Ivan. He didn't mean for it to sound so cold and mean, but the words didn't come out softly like he wanted.

"W—What do you mean? I'm sorry. I keep trying to not love you, since you don't love me anymore, but I keep j—just doing things out of habit. I—I don't mean to do anything that m—makes you m—mad." The Canadian was crying now. _Shit! I don't him to do that!_ Russia placed a hand on Matthew's shoulder. He hated to see this boy cry. Something he didn't understand tugged his heart.

"That's not what I mean. Please, don't cry. I don't want you to be hurt." Canada looked into Ivan's eyes, wiping a tear away.

"Why did you ask what's wrong with me, then?"

"Because, I don't see how you _could_ love me. You're so sweet and perfect, but I'm just a monster who hurt people, like I just did. Why do you even want to love me?"

"I—Ivan, you're the only one who's ever noticed me and cared enough to love me back. You aren't a monster."

"That's not what these memories are showing me," Russia said grimly.

"You changed since then. You're a wonderful person, Russia."

"I don't have any memories of being kind at all."

Canada grabbed Russia's hand, and looked at him for a second. Then he smiled and hugged him. "Then let's make new memories."

Thank you. . .

Hehehe, RusCan. I loves me some RusCan. I'm not that good at writing this couple, but I love to read them so much that I had to.

I had some sort of memory loss idea for an original piece. Then I said 'screw it, this is perfect for Russia and Canada'. And then I wrote it. Woulda posted sooner, but, well, you know, 4H and school and stuff.

Thanks for reading, guys! I squeal at each review, so, please do review/fave/just stare at the screen and smile. I tried to make it good! Thanks everyone!

Disclaimer: This weird lady who wrote this does not own Hetalia or Russia or Canada or anything.


	2. Bad Memories

"Hey, Russia?" The voice startled Russia. He hadn't expected to hear it. _Wait, why is he in my bed_? Russia asked himself. He turned to see Canada lying there, watching him. He hadn't fallen asleep there last night, had he? God, Ivan's memory really was screwed up

"What's wrong?" asked Russia.

"Nothing. We have a meeting today. Do you feel like going? We can ditch it if you want." Russia didn't know if he wanted to go. On one hand, it would probably bring back memories—seeing all those faces. But on the other, he'd have to face the people he had hurt.

"I guess we should go." It would make Russia's heart hurt to see Lithuania and other former Soviet nations, but he would just suck it up and deal. He crawled out of the bed and made his way to the closet. He found a black suit and pulled it on. He looked in the mirror. He hadn't seen the scars around his neck before. That must have been why he wore that scarf.

"Canada, how did I . . ." he trailed off and got wrapped into a memory.

_A man, ugly as hell, wrapped his fingers around Russia's neck. Too tight. He was suffocating._

_ "You listen, Ivan, if you ever do this again, I swear to god I will kill you. Understand?" He was the leader of Russia, how could he threaten to kill his own nation? Then again, it wasn't the first time. There had been times when rulers before this one had actually murdered Ivan, thinking it would make theme somehow stronger. He came back, of course, since his nation was still alive._

_ "Y—Yes sir," Ivan choked out. The grip was released, and Ivan fell to the floor. The place his ruler liked to see him most._

Oh my god. That asshole. Why did he do that? Can I kill him?

_ "Good. Now, do as your told and get him." Russia nodded._

What ensued was not clear memories. Just pictures flashing by.

_A blonde am yelling as Russia dragged an albino away._

_ The albino being hit in the face by Russia._

_ The albino standing on a wall that was crumbling before masses of people. The Berlin wall. . ._

Ivan snapped out of it.

"Russia? Are you okay?" Canada's voice was worried.

"Who's the albino? And the blonde? Why do I remember them?" Ivan sat down on the edge of the bed, prepared for the worst.

"That was Prussia. And Germany. You took over East Germany in the Cold War. Prussia served as the Eastern part." Canada sat down and pat Russia's arm. "Whatever happened in your memory, don't worry about it. It was in the past."

"You said we could make new memories, da? But I can't seem to get rid of all of these old ones." To be honest, he almost didn't want the rest of the memories to come back. Every time, it brought some new horror. He didn't like seeing that monster of a man, who beat Lithuania and kidnapped Prussia, in the mirror.

"You don't have to. Just let them go for now. The new ones will replace the old." Canada smiled and placed a kiss on Russia's cheek. Russia leaned into the touch and wrapped an arm around his Canadian. He couldn't remember anything about the boy, and he didn't know what to do with him, but he did know that he loved him.

"I don't deserve you," muttered Ivan.

"I could say the same thing about you." They sat like that, Ivan practically holding Matthew, for a while. Then Canada looked into Russia's violet eyes. "We should probably go. It's a long drive to Minsk."

"We're meeting in Belarus? Please, spare me." Canada giggled.

"Yeah. She's a little scary, eh?" Russia stood and thought a moment on the idea of being inside his sister. It terrified him. Canada led Russia to a garage, filled with cars and motorcycles.

"If it weren't so cold we would ride a bike, da?"

"We could. It'd be cold as Helsinki, but it'd be fun."

"Next time, then." Ivan found a large black Hummer and the two hopped in. Canada insisted on driving, worried that Ivan would crash if he spaced out in a memory. He had a good point.

"So, do you have any crazy family members I should worry about? No one like Belarus, right?" asked Ivan.

"No, no one quite that insane. But I do have America for a brother. He's not too happy about us. He has a grudge against you for the Cold War."

"Same here. We'll find a way to get along. Who else?"

"England and France are actually alright with it. England has a good relationship with you economically. And France is alright with anyone England likes."

"Good. One nut job sister, and a whacko brother. Sounds fun. Our family reunions will be very funny, da?" Canada laughed.

"Yeah. Don't let Belarus near the meat or cake—she'll claim to be cutting it, then she'll throw the knife at my head."

"Meanwhile, I will be starting another World War with your brother, arguing over who has a bigger peninsula and who has better nuclear weapons." Canada grinned. "Which one of us would it be, I wonder. What do you think?"

"Um, you have a lot of good weapons." Matthew's face was getting red, thinking about the other question.

"Well? Kamchatka versus Florida. I win." They both laughed and grinned. Canada knew Russia was right, but it didn't make the question any less weird.

"Oh, yea, a border," muttered Canada.

The two nations calmed down from their giggles and spoke to the border guard, explaining what they were doing in the nation—there for a business meeting, followed by a return back to Russia. There was a little confusion about Matthew being from Canada, but they were able to pass without too much difficulty.

"We're inside Belarus," uttered Ivan. Canada grinned.

"To think—you wanted her to be one with mother Russia at one point."

Russia raised an eyebrow. "Must have been before I knew she needed to be one with the loony bin."

_Madness. That was what was wrong with him. He was going insane, slowly. A piece of his sanity drifted away each day. He was slowly becoming a lunatic. If he wasn't already one._

_ Power. That's what he had. He wanted more. Ivan glared at the three who trembled before him Latvia, the smallest, was sobbing. Lithuania was shaking, trying to fade into the background, and failing. Estonia closed his eyes and tried to block out the situation._

_ "Come now, you hate me that much? You wouldn't leave me."_

_ "We would. And we will. And we are." Estonia didn't open his eyes as his spoke. He stood, taking a breath. "We're sick of it." He grabbed Latvia by the wrist and tried to get Lithuania. Ivan placed an arm out possessively. If they were leaving, they sure as hell were not taking his favorite Baltic with them. Estonia tried to take his brother again, but Ivan slapped his wrist. Latvia's tears fell more quickly as Estonia took him away. At least Lithuania was still there._

_ He would have someone to suffer the insanity with him._

"I'm horrible."

"I—Ivan, what did you remember?" Canada was worried again. Crap. He didn't want Canada to worry.

"Estonia and Latvia left. I forced Lithuania to stay. I don't want to know what happened next." Ivan shuddered, knowing very well that Lithuania had been treated like shit after that.

"Russia, like I said, it's in the past. I'm sure they've forgiven you." Russia nodded, trying to agree. It was hard. He hardly thought that anyone would forgive him of the things he did. Ivan noticed Matthew's hand on the console, and took it in his own. Matthew smiled. Just twenty-four hours ago, he'd been a weird gay kid, now things were slowly returning to normal, in their relationship, that is.

Matthew spotted the hotel where the meeting would be taking place, and turned into the parking lot. After parking, he looked at Ivan, who was incredibly tense and nervous.

"It'll be okay," assured Canada.

"Da, I hope so." The two got out of the Hummer and walked up to the very fancy brick building. It was pretty—gothic architecture, and stained glass windows. But still, this was Belarus, and pretty as Belarus was, it was dangerous. They entered and soon found a room with a long table and many people. They sat side by side as Russia silently guessed at who each nation was.

"That one there, that's Germany, da? And Prussia?"

"Oui." Russia didn't even have to ask when he saw three shaky nations enter the room. Why were they shaking? Had he done something that caused them to shake out of fear their whole lives? God, he hoped not.

"Matvey, I'm going to go talk to them a moment, da?"

"Alright." Canada placed a peck on Russia's cheek. "Don't worry." Russia nodded and stood, walking to the three nations, who stood in a corner. No one else was actually sitting besides Canada now, but they were away from the group.

"H—Hello, Mr. R—R—Russia." That was the smallest one, Latvia. He looked like he was about to cry.

"Good afternoon," he replied. Russia realized that he was much taller than the other nations. It made him a bit intimidating. He bent down a little. That seemed to scare them worse, so he stood back up.

"W—What's going on, s—sir?" asked the boy. Russia's eyes looked down. God, he was the reason this boy was so afraid. He hated it.

"I lost most of my memory in a car crash, you know?"

"Y—You did?" asked the brunette, it was Lithuania.

"Da. But a few things came back. I want to apologize."

"For what?" asked Estonia, looking a little bit confused.

Russia sighed. So, he'd been so bad they'd never thought he would apologize for it. That hurt, like a blow to the gut by some iron fist. "For all those horrible things I did to you. I just want to apologize. I was a monster, and I see that now." He shifted his gaze. "I understand if you don't forgive me." Because, seriously, Russia wouldn't forgive him if he were in their shoes.

"Mr. Russia, of course we forgive you," said Estonia. "If you've changed this much, then of course we do." The man smiled. A still slightly shaky Latvia gave him a grin.

"Thank you," Russia said. He hugged them all gently and smiled. "Thank you." He left to be seated with Canada.

"How'd it go?" asked the curious Canadian.

"They forgave me." Russia didn't see how. He was such an asshole. But he was glad.

_Happy thoughts ran through Russia. He hit the albino once more. That pale body was splattered in red blood._

_ "Now, East Germany, why don't you listen and do as told? That way, this wouldn't happen anymore, da?" Russia was grinning._

_ "Over . . .my . . .d—dead. . . body." The boy was barely conscious._

_ "Gladly." Ivan swung a pipe and hit the man in the head, knocking him out cold. He grinned. There, Prussia would learn to listen, one way or another. Still, in spite of the albino's defiant nature, Ivan was happy. It mean he got to play with his pipe._

"Damn it," muttered Ivan.

"R—Russia? What's going on? Did you have another flashback?"

"Da. Write down another name on my apology list."

Thank you. . .

Da, this was supposed to be a oneshot, but ya'll liked it, and I got a request for more chapters. So here's some more. It will be longer than this. 5 Chapters.

Thanks for kind reviews and for favs!


	3. Sharing Memories

Finally, it was starting. Germany stood and called the meeting to order. "The first item on the agenda is going to be Global Warming. However, Canada has informed me of another issue that I would like to bring up before we begin." Ivan looked to Canada with a confused face. "Russia was recently in a car crash, and has a minor concussion, and severe memory loss. The topic of his conspiratorial presidency will therefore not be taken to board today."

"Any luck getting memories back, Ivan?" asked England from across the table.

"I wouldn't call it luck," Ivan said.

"What do you mean?" questioned Germany.

"All I'm getting back are memories of how horrible I've been. I'm not that happy with my past right now. I feel as though I've been a monster."

Germany smiled in empathy. "Russia, we all have things we regret."

"Beating the hell out of other nations and severing them in half with a giant wall?" Germany frowned. "Sorry about that, by the way."

"It's fine. I probably deserved that one. In the forties, I made life hell of Israel and a lot of other nations."

"Like, he made me go into a fucking concentration camp!" a blonde sitting near Lithuania hissed. "Still, I totally kicked his ass before that. It was, like, a revenge thing I guess."

"Dude, even I fuck up," said a blonde in a bomber jacket. "I mean, my country is obviously the best because it's America, but that one over there is having a lot of problems because of me." America gestured to a woman in a Muslim garb. Russia assumed she was from the Middle East.

"I'm the one who blew his buildings sky high," she muttered.

"Yes. Even I have done shameful things," said a man with a heavy accent. He had to be France, or some kind of French territory. "Napoléon invaded you, if you don't recall."

"Oui, I've done things too," Canada said quietly. "Sorry for blowing up part of your country on D-Day, Papa." The Frenchman who'd spoken smiled.

"It's alright, Mon Cheri."

"I took away America's freedom for a long time," muttered a man with a cup of tea. Britain, that was who he was. "Not to mention I once beat Uni half to death." Everyone gave him odd glances at the second statement. "I did!"

"Dude, I forgive you," said America to the Brit.

"I was not apologizing, you moron!"

"See, Russia, we've all done things we don't like. You aren't the only one," said Germany.

"Probably what you did was nothing in comparison to our screw ups, eh?" said Canada.

Russia smiled and wrapped an arm around Canada. He was feeling better. He knew that there was a lot that he'd done to others, but to know that everyone had fucked up as bad as he had made him feel less monster-like. If everyone who'd don't bad things was a monster, then he was in a room filled with them. He was happy to have them there.

Everyone was talking about their past mistakes now, apologizing when necessary. No one was fighting, which seemed to come as a surprise to Ivan, for some reason.

"You aren't alone," said Canada, smiling at Ivan. "Usually we all fight and yell about current events. Look at what we're doing today." Ivan saw it. A lot of people had gotten up to talk to one another on a more personal level. Some countries here hugging and people said things that had to be said—confessions of things done wrong, apologies that hadn't made their way into the open yet. Everyone was getting along.

"How's that for world peace, eh?"

Thank you…

This is short I know, but that's what I get for writing things that come to me last minute, eh?

I needed this to be in here. . . IT makes me happy.

Thanks for reviews and faves. It makes me so happy!

I don't own Hetalia.


	4. Good Memories

After a half hour of hugging and friendship, the nations calmed down. Germany got everyone to talk about real issues, while Russia sat around, too spaced out to care what the man was saying.

Canada held onto Russia's hand, and Ivan was glad. Canada was like a safe haven to him—he was the one thing that seemed to makes sense right now, when everything was confusing and mixed up. Canada was retreat and rescue from this insanity.

Safety. . .

_ The blonde was being pushed against a brick wall in the club. Another man, with a telltale bomber jacket, was shoving him up against that wall. The boy was struggling._

_ "Shut up and kiss me, Mattie!" yelled America._

_ "A—Al!" cried the distressed Canadian. He couldn't get away from America, no matter how he fought. Alfred forced their lips to meet and tried to get Matthew into it. It wouldn't work._

_ Russia frowned. He didn't like that America was making other nations do things they didn't want. Like always. He walked up to the couple, and grabbed the collar of the man's coat, ripping him off of the younger nation. America gave Ivan a dirty look, but Russia honestly didn't care._

_ "Why don't you pick on someone your own size, comrade? I'm sure France would enjoy that much more." Russia's words were steely and cold. He flung America away from Canada. "Just go now." The American was quick to obey, out of fear of the Russian._

_ "Th—Thank you." Ivan looked at the Canadian. "Y—you saved me from America."_

_ "You're welcome, comrade." Ivan thought a moment. That boy lived with America, didn't he? That poor boy. He would have to deal with an extremely angry America tonight if he stayed at home. "Do you have a place to stay?"_

_ "A—At home."_

_ "That will hardly do. You can stay with me, da?" Russia placed a hand on the Canadian's shoulder and began to walk out of the bar._

"Canada," said Russia. Matthew looked up at him.

"What is it?" he whispered. Germany was talking about something to do with the environment, and gave the two dark looks for talking while he spoke.

"I remembered a night at a bar with America."

"That was the night I realized I loved you." Canada's words warmed Ivan's heart, which beat so hard it felt like it might fall out of his chest. "We were close before, but that's when I figured out just how close."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For realizing that."

Canada smiled. "You're welcome." He leaned into Ivan, who kept his arm around the boy. What had happened before that? Had Ivan loved Matthew then?

As if on cue, a memory surfaced.

_They were at a meeting, much like the one they were in now. Matthew was happily sitting by Russia, smiling and talking as the others fought. Russia kept a smile on his face the whole time. Matthew was one of the special people in Russia's life. He hurt people, and loved to inflict pain, but there were a special few he would never want to hurt. For a long time, the list had been reserved for only two people—Ukraine and Belarus (who he loved, even if she was a freaky stalker). Now it had extended to include Canada._

_ "Matvey, you have very pretty eyes, da?"_

_ Canada looked surprised, and blushed. "Oh, um, thanks, Russia."_

_ "Please, just call me Ivan."_

_ "Alright. Thanks Ivan." Russia smiled. He'd said his name. Not just his country title, but his actual name. That meant a lot to Russia. Sure, there were some that referred to him as 'Mr. Braginski', but it was different when people used his first name._

God I love this kid_, thought Ivan absently. Canada was perfect in every way. The way his eyes sparkled, the sound of his voice, even that long curl that was always out of place. Russia wanted him. He wanted that boy to be one with Mother Russia. He reached a hand to place it on Canada's waist, but that white bear snapped at him and stopped him_

_ "Kumasushi!" Canada scolded. "Don't bite Ivan!"_

_ "I don't like him," the bear muttered. Canada blushed._

_ "I—I'm sorry," said Matthew. "Did he hurt you?" Canada took Russia's hand in his, inspecting it closely for wounds._

_ "Nyet. Maybe you should kiss it better, just in case," teased Russia._

_ Canada laughed, oblivious to the fact that Ivan was being serious._

Russia almost laughed out loud. He looked at Matthew. He was his now. As if to prove that to himself, Russia placed a kiss on Canada's cheek.

"Well, I guess that tells us what Russia thinks of the issue," said Germany, giving him a smile. Russia was confused. What was the issue? "Canada, would you agree?"

"Oui. I think Alfred should make gay marriage legal. It is in my country." Oh, so that's what was going on. Yeah, he agreed, for sure. But wouldn't that mean it would be legal for Alfred to marry Canada. He didn't like that idea. America wouldn't get away with that if he had anything to do with it.

Germany kept talking. Russia didn't pay attention to him. There was no need to listen to things he wouldn't understand due to his lack of information on current events.

Finally, the meeting was called to an end. People began to leave slowly, and soon Russia and Canada were some of the only ones left. Soon only Germany, Prussia, and two Italians still sat around with them. The Italian with fairer hair whispered something to Germany. Germany nodded.

The boy came running to Russia and smiled brightly. "Mr. Russia, I was wondering if you an Mr. Canada want to stay at my vacation house in Venice next week. Germany and I are going, and so are Spain and big brother Romano!" Russia looked to Canada.

"Do you want to go, sunflower?" Canada blushed at the nickname, but nodded. "I guess we will, then." Italy smiled and thanked them in his language. The other Italian frowned at him.

"You invited that creep! Damn you, Veniciano!"

"What? What did I do wrong? I was just being nice!" Italy backed away from the man and into Germany.

"That bastardo doesn't need you to be nice! Now I have to stay with him at that house." The man continued to mutter.

"But Roma!"

"Shove it, Feli."

"Romano, don't be an asshole to your brother. And be kind to Russia," Germany said. Then he smiled, looking to Russia. "I think you need to put a wall between these two so they'll stop arguing." Russia laughed, even though he didn't know if he was joking or not.

"We'll see you next week, da?" said Russia, finally standing with Canada.

"Ja." They said goodbyes and Russia led Canada to the car.

"Hey, Matvey," said Russia.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Ivan." Russia kissed him quickly before they started the long drive back home.


	5. New Memories

Water was everywhere in this city. Venice was a giant port. It was probably one of the most beautiful things Russia had seen. If this were in Moscow, it'd be frozen for sure.

Canada was leaning into his side with a big smile. Russia kept his arm around Matthew's waist the whole time, looking into the boy's eyes.

"This place is beautiful," said Canada, surprised by how amazing this city was. Over the last hundred years, the way of life hadn't seemed to change at all.

"Not as beautiful as you," Russia told him. Canada blushed and stood on his toes so he could place a kiss on Ivan's cheek. Russia sighed happily. They came to a small arch bridge going over a little straight. When they reached the top, they stood, leaning on the railing.

"I'm glad we came here," said Matthew.

"Da, same here. Better than being in Paris, the city of love?"

Canada laughed. "I don't want to be inside papa Francis any more than I have to." Russia chuckled. Being in France would probably be Canada's equivalent to him being in Belarus.

"_Ciao_, everybody!" called a perky Italian. He was followed by Germany, Romano, and Spain (the latter of which Russia had decided to take a liking to).

"_Boungiorno_, Italy," Canada said in reply.

"_Coma __stai_?" Feliciano asked.

"We're doing very well," answered Russia.

"Do you like Venice? Did you go on a gondola yet?"

"Gondola?" asked Ivan. "Refresh my brain as to what that is, please."

"A gondola is a big boat that someone rows for you and sometimes they play music, and it's really fun!"

"We'll have to see one later," said Canada.

"Alright! Hey, let's all go get lunch together! There's a really nice café down this road," Italy offered.

"Why not?" said Russia. The group of six followed Italy and Germany down the street, where Italian music was playing. It was so . . . wonderful. Russia loved this place—he missed his home of course, and would want to leave soon—and he loved being here with his 'creepy gay kid'. Then again, if that's what Canada was, what did that make him? He mused on that a moment, and smiled. That'd make him a perverted old man.

They entered a little bakery shop and sat at a table. Italy ordered for them, saying he'd gotten the best food imaginable.

"How have you guys been doing?" asked Canada.

"We had a lot of fun. There's a big fail called Carnival tonight, and we were watching people in costumes!" exclaimed Italy. So that's why people seemed to be dressed for a mascaraed.

"Si, Romano and I had a good time too," said Spain.

The food came. For some reason, Russia wasn't surprised to see the long noodles of pasta.

"See, I told you that I ordered the best! Spaghetti!"

The group ate, laughing at Spain and Romano. Antonio tried to place a kiss on Roma's cheek, but it didn't work very well. Romano slapped him about as hard as he could. "Get away, pervert!"

"Oh, mia bambino, you know you love me," cooed the Spaniard.

"Shut up!"

"You didn't deny it!"

"I said shut up!"

Finally, they finished and paid, and Spain stole his kiss, in front of a busy street so that Romano would blush. "Oh, little Tomato," Spain said with a grin.

"We're going to go back to the house and get our costumes! There's a store down the road so you can get some too!" Italy exclaimed.

"Alright. We'll get some," promised Canada. The three couples spit apart and went separate ways.

"There it is!" said Canada. "I can't wait to see you in a funny fifteenth century price outfit."

"Da, and I want you in a maiden's gown." Canada gave Russia a surprised look. Then he laughed. "Matvey, I'm being serious." The entered and Russia found a long, velvet gown in a lavender colour. Russia grabbed it and forced Canada into a dressing room.

"Russia, I don't want to wear this."

"I'm to letting you out until you put it on." He smiled.

"I can get out if I want!" Canada muttered, pulling the door. It didn't move.

"Maybe you should be more aware of your surroundings, sunflower. That door opens outward." Canada muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'maple hockey.' A few minutes later, Matthew knocked on the door.

"Are you dressed?"

"Yeah. And don't you dare laugh."

Ivan let him out. He didn't laugh, only smiled. There Canada was, in a floor-length purple gown with lace on the seams. Russia's eyes darted to the shelf by them. He grabbed a little tiara, and placed it on Matthew. "I like it, da?"

"I can't wear this!" exclaimed Canada. "I look stupid. And all the Italians are looking at me weird."

"Italians are stupid. Simple as that. You'll wear it da?" Russia gave in his best puppy look, a look that Canada couldn't deny.

Matthew sighed. "Alright."

Russia found a normal, prince costume; the two paid, and made their way to the house. Romano and Spain were already there.

"Did you two find costumes?" asked Spain.

"Oui," answered Canada.

"Show me," said the smiling Spaniard. Canada shook his head violently.

"Aw, but, sunflower, I would love for you to show Antonia. You look so cute in it. Spain would like it too."

"Fine," muttered Canada, who took his bag into a bathroom. Russia was happy that Canada was wearing the gown. Russia knew Matthew didn't like the idea of cross-dressing, but he looked so adorable. Unknown to Ivan, Matthew had done stranger things to make him happy before.

Canada came out. The first thing Russia heard was Romano's laugher.

"Oh my god! You look like a girl!" Canada blushed and hid behind Russia. Spain smiled at Canada.

"Oh, amigo, you look wonderful. Don't listen to Roma," said Antonio.

"You look so stupid!" laughed Romano, falling to the couch from his laughter.

"And you're named after cheese!" Russia hissed. The Italian was making him angry. He had insulted his Canada. "Don't you dare say anything more about how Matvey looks. Got it? If not, my pipe would love to find its way up your ass."

That shut him up. Russia held onto Canada as they sat down on the couch.

After a long, very awkward silence, Russia asked, "What did you two get?"

"I'm wearing an old outfit from my pirate days," said Spain. "It's red, like a tomato. And Roma's wearing something I have from the Austrian Succession, when I kicked Roderich's ass."

"Temporarily," muttered Romano. "Then a chick beat you up."

"Hey, Hungary is scary as hell!" The two began to bicker like an old married couple, and Russia smiled at Canada.

"I'm going to get changed, alright?"

"Oui."

Russia took off, and changed. In the mirror, he saw the scars on his neck. They'd show a little in this costume. He didn't mind much. Sure, it would earn him some stares from strangers, and possibly questions from his fellow nations. He made his way back to the living room, where Roma and Spain were dressed. They looked pretty good.

Soon, the door opened, and Italy came running in. "We're home! Who's ready to go? Do you have costumes on yet?"

"We're ready," Canada said. Italy didn't hear him, so Russia repeated for him.

"Alright! Let's go!" Italy was in a long blue coat and wore a blue feather hat. Germany came behind him, muttering about how fast Italy ran when he was happy, and that he should learn to be fast during his training too. He was in a Teutonic Knights outfit, probably borrowed from Prussia.

Italy looked at Canada. "You look so pretty!" he exclaimed. "I should have got a dress too!"

Canada smiled. Having Italy say it looked good gave him a little more confidence.

The six of them hurried out of the house, and went down the streets. The place was so wonderfully pretty. Lights of all colours lit up the roads. They were all spit up soon, Canada and Russia still together.

They found a group of dancers and joined in.

Matthew placed is hand on Ivan's shoulder, while Russia placed his hand on Matthew's waist. They danced slowly, and soon Canada's head was on Russia's chest. "I love you, Matvey," said Russia.

"I love you too, Ivan."

The two were startled a moment when fireworks began, but then went back to their dance.

That's when Russia realized:

He didn't need his old memories. He didn't even really want them anymore. He just wanted to be with his Canada, and to make new memories with him.

Thank you!

This is the final chapter to this story. For starting as a one-shot, I think five chapters is pretty good, eh?

I thought up a list of romantic places for them to go—Paris was to French, London didn't have any good food, and going back in time to ancient Japan wasn't an option. So Venice had to work.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and faved this story. You make me glad I continued this!


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